Harry the Hero
by Luckjaw
Summary: Harry Potter's parents were tortured to insanity years ago. Raised by Sirius Black and Remus Lupin in a world where Neville Longbottom is the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry becomes dedicated to curing his parents and exacting revenge on the ones who destroyed his family. Non-slash, no bashing.


**Summary: **Harry Potter's parents were tortured to insanity years ago. Raised by Sirius Black and Remus Lupin in a world where Neville Longbottom is the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry becomes dedicated to curing his parents and exacting revenge on the ones who destroyed his family.

**A/N: **Just a few things so you know what you're getting into. Not slash. Harry is already very strong - considered a genius by his professors. I don't know about romance yet, but him being with a girl doesn't necessarily mean he'll end up with her forever (i.e. if he starts dating someone, doesn't necessarily mean that's the pairing of the story). No bashing.

* * *

**Harry the Hero  
**Chapter One

"So, this is it St. Mungos?" Hermione Granger asked, craning her ahead and staring this way and that. "This is… well, it's just incredible! In the middle of London, too. Do they ever bring Muggles here?"

"Yeah," Neville Longbottom responded, nodding. He was a tall boy, standing a few inches above Hermione. "Sometimes wizards accidentally do things to Muggles, or they drink something they shouldn't, or they're just in the wrong place at the wrong time… obviously, Muggle hospitals can't fix them, so they have to come here."

"We're nearly there," Ron called out, a few steps ahead of the others. "I think this is the office…"

The three fourth-years stepped out of the stairwell and walked down the hallway, noting that they were on a floor dedicated to long-term patients who needed intensive care. With their OWLs approaching (_"It's summer break, Hermione! Before our FOURTH YEAR! Come on!" _Ron had moaned), Hermione had decided that she wanted to begin looking at different careers in the magical field, including healing. This meant, of course, that Ron and Neville would be dragged along for the ride. They had requested a meeting with one of the healers, a recent graduate from Hogwarts, Elaine Warglitte, and were on their way to her office now.

"Blimey," Ron muttered, glancing into several rooms. "Would hate to be here permanently… working or otherwise…"

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "This is an amazing place to work! So much research is done here all the time. Did you know, several types of potions that deal with lycanthropy and vampirism were created right here, in St. Mungos? Think about how many people that affects, allowing them to live normal lives!"

"I mean, I get that it's amazing, Hermione," Neville began, as they turned a corner. "But I sort of get it. It's kind of depressing being here… oh, hi, Harry!"

Neville had trailed off at the end of his sentence, looking confused but pleased. Hermione and Ron had also stopped. They were all facing another one of their fourth-year classmates, a fellow Gryffindor named Harry Potter.

Harry was a tall boy, with jet-black hair and shocking green eyes. He had an easygoing manner, and was incredibly popular at Hogwarts, mainly renowned for his ability in class. Despite this, he didn't seem to have any close friends. Ron, Hermione, and Neville had tried several times to include Harry in their activities, knowing that his magical prowess could help them quite a bit, but he didn't seem interested. In fact, Harry didn't seem interested in many things outside of their classes, the library (which may have been why out of the group, Harry and Hermione were the closest), and Quidditch. He was indisputably the number one student in their year, but never seemed to brag or talk about that fact. In short, people liked Harry, even if they didn't know much about him.

"Oh, hello!" Harry smiled at each of them, though he suddenly looked flushed and a bit nervous. He glanced back at the room he had just exited from, where the trio could see two beds, surrounded by long curtains that hid the patients. "What are you all doing here?"

While Neville and Ron explained what they were doing, Hermione's eyes focused on the room that Harry had just left. What was he doing here? Clearly visiting someone, or someones, because he had just left the room… but who? No one really knew much about Harry. They knew he was a half-blood, and that he was raised by his godfather and another uncle of some sort, but no one had ever asked why. With a sinking feeling in her heart, Hermione felt like she was beginning to understand why he might not have been raised by his parents. Before she could turn to the others and tell them that maybe they should get a move on before they made Harry feel any more awkward than he must have already felt, Ron had already opened his mouth.

"So, what're you doing here, Harry?"

Harry tensed, but forced himself to relax. It wasn't like he was ashamed of his parents - far from it. He came here every day that he physically could. He loved his parents, for what they had done for him, for what they had fought for. But still, he kept the secret of what happened to his parents close to his chest, having never revealed it to his classmates for whatever reason. It felt unreal, to say what had happened to them, and he knew what their reactions would be like. They would be uncomfortable, not knowing what to say. Perhaps Hermione's eyes would fill with tears, and then he really wouldn't know what to do. He felt the seconds ticking by, as Ron's question remained unanswered.

"My… parents." Harry ground out, feeling his heart hammer wildly in his chest. This was so silly. There was nothing wrong with telling them. "They… were in the last war."

Ron and Neville looked confused, not sure what that had to do with Harry being in the long-term intensive care unit, but Hermione's eyes filled with pity and understanding. Harry gritted his teeth, preparing to turn away and exit the hospital, when a voice called out to him.

"Hello…" A woman stepped out of the room Harry had just been in. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused. She was beautiful, with long, red hair, and the same green eyes that Harry had. "I think you should have this." She pressed a candy wrapper into Harry's hand, before gazing off into the distance. Her eyes trailed over the trio, not focusing on any of them, before turning to Harry. She cocked her head.

"Do I know you?"

Harry made a sound, choking, before turning his face away. The woman stood there for a few seconds before turning back into the room, leaving the four hallway occupants behind to stand in silence.

Ron and Neville caught on immediately. They stood there, gaping. Hermione had clapped her hand to her mouth.

"That's… my Mum," Harry said, his voice tight and controlled. He looked at them, daring them to laugh, but none of them had ever seen anything less funny in their lives. "My Mum and Dad, they were tortured by Voldemort and his followers in the last war. I was only a kid then. Their minds were broken."

"Oh my god," Hermione whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. Harry looked incredibly uncomfortable. "Harry, I'm so sorry, I never -"

"Don't be," Harry said, and the three were astounded to hear the strength in his voice. "I'm proud of my parents. They fought for what they believed in - for the rights of Muggles, for the protection of Muggleborns, and for an end to the pureblood fanaticism that Voldemort believed in. I'll find a cure for what happened to them, but until then, I do the best I can. I think…" His voice choked slightly. "I think that's what they would have wanted."

Silence reigned. Hermione stepped forward to hug Harry, who allowed her to. Ron and Neville stepped forward, gripping each of Harry's shoulders.

"Mate, I never knew…" Ron said, and Harry nodded.

"Don't expect you guys to. It's not a secret or anything, but it's not exactly a topic that comes up in polite conversation."

"Is this why you're always studying and in the library?" Neville suddenly asked, turning his gaze towards Harry. "Are you searching for a cure?"

Harry nodded, and Hermione seemed to find the strength to hug him even harder. Harry's insides were being turned to liquid, but he didn't stop her. It felt like a weight was being taken off his shoulders, telling his classmates what had happened to his parents. Hermione's hug felt comfortable, if a little too painful for his tastes.

"Yes," Harry said. "I'll find a cure. I've been trying to work with Professor Snape for a few months now too - Professor Dumbledore said he's been searching for a cure for my parents for a few years, and I thought I could help him… but he's refused."

"What?!" Ron exploded, his face turning as red as his hair. "How can he refuse?! They're _your _parents!"

Harry shrugged noncommittally, but inwardly, his rage burned. He was glad Ron agreed with him, because every time Snape refused him, Harry felt furious and useless. He knew Snape was a potions master, and he was just a student, but he could do _something_!

"We'll help you, Harry!" Neville offered, his eyes flashing determinedly, and Harry felt warmth flood his body. Is this what it felt like? To have friends who cared, who really cared? Why had he held back from his classmates for so long? Why had he thought that they wouldn't care, that they would jeer, or think that he was crying for pity? How could he have not thought that maybe, just maybe, they would even understand? Neville's parents had been murdered by Voldemort. Ron's uncles had been famous for the way that they had dueled Death Eaters to the death. Hermione's entire existence was what Voldemort and his followers wanted to destroy.

"Thank you," Harry said, unable to find the words to express the gratitude he felt. Despite this, he felt like they understood what he was trying to say. "Thank you."

* * *

A few weeks later, Harry found himself at the Burrow, the Weasley's home in Ottery St. Catchpole. He had received a surprise invitation in the mail from Ron, who said they had an extra ticket because his brother, Percy, didn't need one on account of his position as Barty Crouch's personal assistant. Harry had hesitated, wondering if he could afford to take time away from his studies, but Sirius and Remus had found the letter and all but forced Harry to write back with a "yes."

He knocked on the door awkwardly, wondering if the gift he had brought him was silly. He didn't have a chance to toss the gift in the bushes next to him, however, because at that moment, a woman who could only be Mrs. Weasley opened the door. She beamed at him.

"You must be Harry Potter! I knew your parents - wonderful people - and I'm so pleased you could join us! Come inside, come inside!"

Harry walked in inside and could barely understand what was happening. There were Muggle clocks along with one Wizarding clock lining the walls, old socks and delicious food, two twins jumping around, pots and pans cleaning themselves…

To put it plainly, it was absolute chaos. But there was something, Harry thought, very pleasing about the chaos in this house. As if it needed that energy to run.

"Come here, would you dear? Food's almost ready, we'll be having lunch in about half an hour, would you like some tea?"

"No thanks, Mrs. Weasley," Harry responded, who was taken aback by how pleased Mrs. Weasley looked at those words.

"Oh, so polite!" She crooned. "You can call me Molly if you'd like, dear. What's that you have in your hands?"

"Oh, uh, I brought a gift," Harry said lamely, really regretting his decision to bring it now. "It's silly, I'm not sure if you'll like it -"

"Nonsense, dear!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, and Harry swore she practically saw tears fly out of her eyes at the thought of him bringing a gift for their family. "Bring it here, let me open it - _oh my!"_

She had opened the gift on the table, and in it was a framed photo. Mrs. Weasley's mouth was opening and closing, words unable to exit her lips. Harry suddenly felt incredibly anxious. Perhaps he had overstepped his, this was his first time in their house after all, and he had brought such a personal gift…

"Is this what I think it is, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley finally asked after a few dreadful moments, and Harry nodded.

"It's a photo of your brothers," Harry said. "I live at Grimmauld Place with Sirius and Remus, you see, and we have a ton of photos from my parents and their days at Hogwarts. Your brothers were in a few of them and I thought I'd -"

He was interrupted by Mrs. Weasley throwing herself at him, sobbing wildly. His natural instincts kicked in and he hugged her, rubbing circles around her back and providing comforting words. She continued to cry for a few minutes before finally sniffling and stopping, taking a second to peer at him thoughtfully.

"This is one of the kindest gifts anyone has ever given me, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling at Harry. "You see, our family didn't have any wizarding cameras growing up, so any photos we had of Gideon and Fabian came from when they were older. We have almost no photos of them growing up or at Hogwarts. Their older photos are wonderful, don't get me wrong, but they're overcast by war and sadness. These Hogwarts photos… these moments of innocence, captured… Harry, I can't tell you how much that means to me. Thank you again."

"Of course, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, and the two smiled at each other again.

"You should get upstairs. Ron's up there with Neville and Hermione, I believe. We'll be leaving early tomorrow morning so make sure not to unpack too much."

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley."

* * *

"Harry. _Harry!" _A voice exclaimed, and Harry awoke with a start. He was lying in a magical tent in a campsite miles away from the Burrow. The World Cup had been earlier that day, and after hours of celebration, he had fallen asleep near midnight. Now, though, he lit his wand and saw Mr. Weasley looking at him, his face pinched with anxiety. "Listen, Harry. This is important. There's something going on out there."

A scream cut through the campsite as if on cue and Harry's heart started hammering wildly.

"Something's going on and I need to make sure the other Ministry workers are alright and don't need my help. I need you to wake up the others now and get somewhere safe, understood? I'm sorry for putting this on you but I need to go right now."

"Yes, of course Mr. Weasley," Harry responded, quickly getting dressed and rousing Ron and Neville, who were mumbling in their sleep next time. He filled them in on the situation and began hearing more and more sounds outside - shouts, yells, screams. Ginny and Hermione both came to their room after a few minutes, apparently awakened by the noises outside.

The group exited the tent and were immediately on guard. People were running and screaming. There was a group of wizards a few dozen feet from them, wearing masks and lifting the Muggles who owned the plot of land they were on. Ministry workers were shouting, there were explosions, and Harry began to feel an intense rage take ahold of him. _Death Eaters_, his mind seemed to shout. _Look at them! Torturing Muggles, like they tortured your parents!_

He vaguely felt hands grip him, trying to pull him back, but Harry easily shook them off and continued to march forwards, towards the pack of wizards who were playing with the Muggles. As he approached, he watched one of them flip the wife of the landowner so that her head was where her legs should be. Her dress fell down and the group began to laugh at her exposed undergarments. Harry's pulsing rage left him, and a cold one gripped his heart instead. _Did they do that to my Mum? _He wondered dully.

The wand was in his hand before he could think.

"Let them go!" He roared, and the four 'Death Eaters' turned to face him. Their faces were covered, making them look menacing and inhuman.

"Who is this?" one of the Death Eaters sneered. "A blood traitor? Come to tell us what to do? We'll let them go, sure thing."

And quickly, each Death Eater released their magic on the Muggles, who screamed as they abruptly found themselves falling out of the sky. Harry didn't think. The incantation was already on his lips and he caught the Muggles in a Hovering charm, lowering them gently. They turned and ran, and Harry quickly turned his attention back to the four Death Eaters, who all had their wands pointed towards him.

"_Crucio!"_

"_Confringo!"_

"_Stupefy!"_

"_Locomotor Mortis!"_

The spells came at him at the same time, but Harry was already moving. He dodged one of the jets of light before transfiguring a nearby mound of Earth into a giant muddy wall. He slipped behind it, feeling the other spells slam against it.

"Come out, blood traitor!"

Harry created a small hole in the wall so that he could see what was going on on the other side, and saw that the Death Eaters had split up, two to each side, attempting to surround him. He decided that he'd go for the ones on his left first and quickly dove towards them, pointing his wand to their legs and letting them snap together with a flourish of his wand. He felt, rather than saw or heard, something coming towards him and he dived against to the side, letting a jet of light crash into the ground where he was.

"Stop running, coward!"

Harry quickly transfigured the mound of earth he had been hiding behind into knives, sending them shooting toward the sound of the voice. He heard a scream and quickly shot forward to send a Stunning spell towards the Death Eater, who had been stabbed by several knives. He turned to the two other Death Eaters, whose legs were locked, and stunned them too. Harry stood, waiting and tensed, straining his ears for the slightest sound… searching for the last Death Eater…

_There._

He had heard something behind him and he quickly cast a Shielding charm, which turned out to be the correct move as something sickly and yellow collided against it. The spellcaster, who had just seen his spell be deflected, turned tail and ran. Harry ran straight after him, but the man reached a spot that had apparently lost its anti-apparation ward because in the next second, he turned and spun away. Harry cursed, breathing hard. He had lost him. _Too slow. Not good enough. Couldn't save your parents. Too slow. Not good enough. Couldn't-_

"Harry!" A voice called out, and Harry turned to see that Neville, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were running towards him, panting. Neville had been the one to speak, and Harry turned to him and noted that he was the only one not clutching his wand. "Harry, what happened?! We tried to stop you from going after the Muggle-baiters, but then you were in this fight, and _Merlin's beard _Harry, how did you learn to do all that magic?!"

Hermione was nearly breathless in her excitement. "Harry, you created that huge wall! That's incredibly advanced magic! It's practically N.E.W.T level - you must be so ahead of me - do you think we could study together when we're back at Hogwarts?"

Harry didn't have a chance to respond to all the compliments being thrown his way as they all heard a loud _whoosh_ing noise. When they turned to see what it was, they came face-to-face with a large, green, skull in the air.

Someone screamed. Harry's blood pounded.

"They're back," Harry said. He almost smiled.

* * *

A few weeks after the excitement of the Quidditch World Cup, Harry found himself at King's Cross Station. His luggage was packed and he was facing Sirius and Remus, who both grinned at him.

"Off for another year, Moony," Sirius sighed sadly. "And yet, not a _single _prank. Can you believe it? Are we terrible fathers? Have we failed in our duty as Marauders?"

Remus stifled a laugh before shaking his head. "I think, somehow, we've actually done pretty well with this one. Top grades, Quidditch seeker, and… oh, I forgot to mention this Harry, you won the Bertie Bott's Excellence in Potions Award for your, quote, incredibly thoughtful and eye-opening argument on the use ofwillingly given unicorn blood in healing potions. The letter came last night."

"Excellent!" Harry said with a grin. "There was a galleon award, wasn't there? And I get a free box of Bertie Bott's every week for the next year? Guaranteed to have at least three flavors that don't make you puke, they promised, and at least one flavored like puke. Hopefully that essay leads to something in someone's research."

"Yep," Remus nodded. "I've already deposited the Galleons in your account, and the Every Flavor Beans should start coming sometime around next week."

"Harry!" A voice called out, and Sirius and Remus both looked incredibly gleeful as a girl with bushy brown hair collided with Harry. "How are you? How were your last few weeks of summer? This must be your godfather, right? And hello, Professor Lupin! My name is Hermione Granger!"

"Oho!" Sirius wiggled his eyebrows and Harry made a face. "Harry didn't tell us he had a new… _girlfriend_."

Hermione's face turned scarlet and she began stuttering, but Harry just shook his head, laughing. "Sorry, Hermione, they're always like this. Hermione's not my girlfriend, she's another fourth-year in Gryffindor. I… er… we talked at St. Mungo's the other day."

Sirius and Remus lost their smiles but looked at Hermione solemnly, who suddenly felt like she had intruded on a secret that she should not know about. Contrary to her expectations though, she saw that they both had approving looks in their eyes.

"I'm glad you're finally letting people in, Harry," Remus said seriously. "Hermione, you might notice that our little Harry is a bit, er, private. We'd like to get him out of that shell. If you could, please help us out on that front."

"No!" Harry moaned. "Oh, I feel like I'm five again, being set up for play dates."

Sirius had opened his mouth as soon as Harry had uttered the word "date," looking positively gleeful, but Remus gave him a stern look before turning back to the two. "Could you do that for me, Hermione? Make sure Harry isn't just sitting in the library researching?"

"Yes, of course!" Hermione beamed, and Harry was forcibly reminded that Remus had been their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor last year, and Hermione was probably acting on her natural instinct to follow authority figures around. "I'll make sure! It was great to meet you, Sirius, and wonderful to see you again, Professor! We should get going, Harry, if we want to get a compartment. The train's starting to fill up."

Harry nodded, and the group exchanged one last round of "goodbye" and "see you later"'s before Harry and Hermione set off for the train. Sirius and Remus watched the two leave, not saying a single word until the two had stepped foot on the train and disappeared from sight.

"Finally," Sirius sighed, his face relaxing. "I thought that kid was never going to make a friend. He's popular, alright, how can he not be with that dashing Marauder personality, but…"

"I know," Remus said, smiling slightly. "He never made friends, always worried that they'd distract him from his studies, never told anyone about his parents… he plays Quidditch to honor his father, for Merlin's sake, and he's barely friends with his team. This is a start. A really great start."

"You think they'd be happy with how we raised them?" Sirius asked, his voice surprisingly meek. There was no need to ask who "they" referred to.

"I think so," Remus responded. "He's a great kid. He's going to do great things. Seriously, a Potions award? He hasn't even started his fourth year yet."

"He's going to end up a Prefect at this rate… then we _really _would have failed as parents!"

"If you remember, _I _was a Prefect. And James ended up Head Boy!"

"I choose not to remember either of those things. Those were betrayals of the highest order."

"Sirius!"


End file.
